


Most Loathed Enemy

by ArgylePirateWD



Category: Original Work
Genre: Detectives, Dreamsharing, Enemy Is Their Soulmate, Enemy Lovers, F/M, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-02
Updated: 2017-06-02
Packaged: 2018-11-08 07:19:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11076726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArgylePirateWD/pseuds/ArgylePirateWD
Summary: "Soulmates are so much stronger when they're together.""Is this your way of telling me I should stop trying to arrest you?""Yes."





	Most Loathed Enemy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sadistrix](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sadistrix/gifts).



She dreams of him, vague images of dark hair and darker eyes, flashes of a crooked grin, the flexes of countless firm muscles. He's been there for as long as she can remember, really, a nightly visitor she's never met but knows like a lifelong friend. His smell, something smoky and rich and mysterious. The taste of his skin. His voice. His everything.

When Bria rips off the Lone One's mask, she's not expecting _him_.

She steps back, clutching her gun tighter so it doesn't quiver in her grasp. _Him_ , with that crooked grin, and dark eyes sparkling with menace, not mirth. The star of so many of her dreams—and, lately, some of her nightmares, in his other form. The man she's kissed a thousand times before she knew she'd met him. The man she's tried and failed to take down for months. 

He doesn't resist as she spins him around and cuffs him, just keeps _smirking_ , and she wants to kiss—no, _punch_ the smugness off his face, but can't, not now, not yet. Not even with his Power straining against the surface of his skin, threatening to tear his cuffs like tinfoil in an instant if he wants. Somehow, she ignores that palpable thrum of energy, and her voice stays steady as she reads him his rights. Any moment, he's going to break free. Any second.

"Are we really going to keep playing this game, Brianna?" he asks, low enough that only she and her supersenses can hear. "You putting me away, me getting away..."

"Shut up," Bria growls against his ear, and she shoves him in the back of her car.

* * *

The Lone One escapes, of course, before she can interrogate him, leaving behind chaos and shattered concrete—but not before she puts a real name to the face. Jake Davis. Such an innocuous name for someone like him, someone who's supposed to mean so much to her, someone who's done nothing but bring her headaches and anger and grief. Aren't soulmates supposed to love each other? Or was that just another myth, another pretty _story_ about the happily ever after that's always eluded Bria?

What does it say about her, she wonders, that the man she's destined to spend the rest of her life with is practically a monster?

Her partner Charlie, bless him, plonks a cup of coffee down in front of her, and gets started on his share of the paperwork. She flashes him a grateful smile, then goes back to her report. Why couldn't she be soulmates with someone more like Charlie, someone kind and law-abiding and harmless, someone who brings her shitty breakroom coffee made just the way she likes it without asking, who doesn't taunt her silently from the back of her car, who doesn't kill people for no good reason? Not that she'd want to replace Charlie's wife. Leslie's great. Leslie and Charlie are good together. Bria just wants to know why she can't have that?

_"You'd be bored without me, Detective,"_ the Lone One— _Jake_ , Jacob fucking Davis—said to her once, when he had her staring down the barrel of her own damn gun. _"You need me."_

_"Like a hole in the head,"_ she shot back, which made him laugh. She still feels dirty when she remembers the small swell of pride she'd felt at that sound.

Maybe once she can figure out a way to get him behind bars and keep him there, she'll feel better.

* * *

Bria's been to this place a billion times before. Whether it exists somewhere or not, she doesn't know, but as soon as her head hits the pillow each night, she's there. Music wafts by from somewhere—soft jazz this time, a genre she knows nothing about—and the room is cast in a gentle yellow glow. The blurry people around her are talking, laughing, even dancing, while she sips at her oddly tasteless stout and watches from her corner.

A hand curls around her hip, the tips of long fingers landing on her stomach. In reality, she'd jump, whirl around, take the person touching her down. Here, she heaves a sigh of resignation, and says, "Hello, Jake."

"You look lovely tonight."

Warm lips press against the curve of her shoulder, just above the scar she got from a perp's knife as a rookie, and she realizes the skin is bare. She looks down. Red dress, some strapless satin thing with a flared skirt and matching heels. Bria wrinkles her nose, and the blink of an eye, the dress is gone, replaced with her old uniform, her sidearm heavy on her hip. Much better.

"It's kind of a shame we're sworn enemies," he adds, as he takes her drink from her hands, then drains her glass with one long gulp.

"We wouldn't be sworn enemies if you'd stop killing people."

Jake lets out a chuckle, and sets the glass on a nearby railing. "You and I both know better than that," he says. 

Bria shakes her head. "Just because you're my soulmate doesn't mean you're anything special."

"Oh, Brianna, if that were true, you wouldn't still be alive." He reaches out, and drags his thumb across her bottom lip, and her heartbeat catches in her chest. She fights the urge to suck his finger into her mouth. Why can't she make herself step back? Why can't she shove him away?

Why does she still want to kiss him?

"I would've gotten rid of you years ago if I didn't know how important I am to you," he continues. "You may think you're as much trouble for me as I am for you, but you're wrong. You've done nothing but help me since the day you started trying to take me down." He cups her cheek in his palm, and she leans into it in spite of herself, her eyes falling shut. "Soulmates are so much stronger when they're together, you know."

"Is this your way of telling me I should stop trying to arrest you?"

"Yes." The word is hot and damp against her mouth, and his lips are soft and intoxicating.


End file.
